


drunk on your love (and a whole lot of ginger)

by BookFangirlMaryJane



Series: TARDIS Advent Calendar Prompts [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Baking, Christmas Cookies, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Fluff, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, TARDIS Advent Calendar, two idiots utterly drunk on ginger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookFangirlMaryJane/pseuds/BookFangirlMaryJane
Summary: Slowly, the Master walks over to her and peers into the bowl. Then he looks up at her again. “You texted me an emergency message because you need me to taste something for you?!”--o--TARDIS Advent Calendar (by Valc0), prompt for today is 'Getting drunk on the ginger from gingerbread cookies'.Not really spoilers, but it's set after series 12.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), mentioned Jack Harkness/Graham O'Brien
Series: TARDIS Advent Calendar Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041429
Comments: 11
Kudos: 75





	drunk on your love (and a whole lot of ginger)

**Author's Note:**

> This is very fluffy and funny.
> 
> Set after series 12, but there aren't any spoilers.  
> There is a bit of nudity, but only alluded to. Nothing really happens.
> 
> I hope you guys have fun reading this, as I had a lot of fun writing it ^_^

_‘Emergency! I need your help. TARDIS parked on a hill by Sheffield. Left-hand corridor, third door to the right. Hurry!’_

**—o—**

He appears in the door five minutes after she sent off her message, coat swishing behind him as he bursts into the room, coming to a sudden stop at the sight of her. She’s not quite sure what he finds on her face, but it gets him to stare at her in disbelief.

“You were fast,” she says with a wide smile and then holds out a bowl. “Taste this and tell me if it’s okay, yeah?”

He just keeps staring at her.

“Are you kidding me?!” he finally gets out.

The Doctor frowns. “No? I want you to tell me if this tastes good or not. I hate to admit it, but you’ve got better taste buds than me this time ‘round. I have no idea if I put too much salt in or not.”

Slowly, the Master walks over to her and peers into the bowl. Then he looks up at her again. “You texted me an emergency message because you need me to **taste** something for you?!”

She pointedly looks at the bowl. “Well, if I don’t get this right, my fam’s gonna think I’m bad at this, and they won’t accept cookies for Christmas from me. That’s an emergency.” And again, she holds the bowl towards him. “Now, tell me what you think.”

With an eyeroll, he hesitantly grabs a spoon from the counter and scoops up some of the dough. The Doctor watches him, eyes wide in anticipation, as he carefully licks it and then, with a surprised expression, eats the rest and tilts his head. “Surprisingly, it’s not bad. It’s actually incredible. I expected everything you try to cook or bake to turn out tasting horribly.”

She scrunches up her face. “Why does everyone think that? It’s just putting the ingredients into the bowl in the right order. That’s science. I’m **good** at science. You all seem to forget that. My fam excluded me from baking Christmas cookies because they think I’d mess them up. _‘Ruin them’_ is what they said. Really rude.”

The Master chuckles and takes another scoop. “Why do you even care about their opinion?”

“I want to make Christmas cookies for them, so they have to taste good!”

When he makes to take his third scoop, she bats his arm away. “Oi, don’t eat all of it! I still need that.” His eyes widen and he gives her the best innocent expression she’s ever seen.

With an eyeroll, the Doctor shakes her head at his antics. “If you help me make more, you can taste all you like, you know?”

Her offer hangs in the air for a moment. She can see him consider it. When he shrugs off his coat and rolls up his sleeves, she grins at him. The Master smirks back.

“Did you know you have flour all over your face, by the way? And something that looks like butter on your chin,” he remarks. Quickly, the Doctor wipes over her face and then licks her fingers. Oh, it really is butter! “Oops,” she says without any shame.

He just chuckles and steps up to her. “Now, what are we making?”

The Doctor grins and pushes several pieces of paper over to him. They’re a bit smudged with flour and sprinkled with sugar, but the ingredients are still readable.

“I want to make a bunch of those,” she explains and waits for the Master to read over them.

“Christmas cookies, Vanillekipferl, jammie dodgers, shortbread, custard creams, gingerbread cookies,” he reads out the recipes with a chuckle. “Really? Gingerbread? That’s gonna be fun to taste.”

When he looks up, she throws him a sly grin. “Yeah. That’s why I made a batch of them first.”

His gaze flickers towards the bowl on the table between them and he makes a noise somewhere between surprise and resignation. “Ah. No wonder it’s so good, then. I wanted to ask about that bittersweet note but now…” He doesn’t look overly bothered by the ginger he just ingested. Or by the implications that they’ll both be utterly drunk by the end of this.

The Doctor scoots over to his side and wraps herself around him, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. “You’re still helping me, right?”

With an eyeroll, the Master smiles down at her and presses a quick kiss to her forehead. “Do you even have to ask, luv?”

Oh, they're definitely gonna be utterly drunk on ginger by the end of this, aren't they?

She finds she doesn’t mind that.

Doesn’t mind that at all.

**—o—**

Several hours later, her fam (now plus Jack) find them, giggling and eating cookie dough straight from the bowl with big spoons. When the Doctor sees them enter, she cheers and waves at them. “Fam!”

She tries to get up but everything tilts around her and she almost topples off her chair. Only the Master’s hand on her arm keeps her upright. He pulls her back at his side with a long-suffering sigh and she giggles.

“Oops.” She shuffles closer towards him and then grins at the humans and sorta-human. “What’cha doing here, fam? D’I miss anything big? We weren’t gonna travel today, were we? I specific’ly picked today to do this because we weren’t gonna do anything.”

“We… weren’t,” Ryan says, staring at her. “Jack saw the TARDIS, and his house next to it.” He nods at the Master, who grins back and wriggles his fingers at them. “We thought we should check it out. See if you were in trouble or anything.”

“Aww, that’s so nice of you guys!” the Doctor coos. She turns to the Master and lets her head flop down on his arm. “D’you hear that? They came to check up on me! Aren’t they great?!” He makes a noise of agreement. “Yes, very nice.”

Yaz steps closer and regards the counter, sprinkled with flour and dough and chocolate chips, and then the two aliens, their clothes dirty with the very same things.

“What are you two doing?” she asks.

The Doctor holds up her spoon, yummy dough plastered to it. “Baking Christmas cookies! Cause you excluded me. See, cause I can make good cookies. And I had to prove it. And I needed a second opinion on taste. His taste buds are better ‘n mine.”

“She can actually bake!” the Master points out, pushing the bowl with cookie dough towards the humans and then pointing at several metal boxes, filled to the brim with various cookies.

The humans stare at the boxes, then at the two who filled them. The Doctor has a dopey grin on her face and is licking her hands clean of the dough that’s sticking to them from kneading it earlier. It’s just so good! The Master is chuckling into her ear.

She isn’t quite sure when the two of them got so close. At first, they stood on opposite sides of the table, each making their own batch of cookies, but after several more scoops of dough, very much spiked with ginger, things got more relaxed.

At some point, they were next to each other, kneading the same dough, the Doctor giggling and the Master chuckling, a couple spoonfuls beyond tipsy.

_(They may or may not have made out a few times, too. It wasn’t her fault, it really wasn’t. There was just a bit of dough stuck to his lip and her mind convinced her licking it off was the way to go. How should she have known he’d pull her into a kiss?!)_

_(He tastes of cookie dough and ginger and home. The second kiss cannot be blamed on her. She just had to taste that again. She loves that taste.)_

_(She loves him.)_

_(He loves her back. She knows, because he wrote it on her skin when they were kissing for the third time, fingers gently tracing circles, letters only to them, but he doesn't say it, so she doesn't say it either, pretends she didn't notice. His fault, that one. Or maybe hers. She doesn’t know anymore. She doesn’t think it matters.)_

“Are you two drunk?!” Jack finally asks the question that they must all be thinking. With a snort, the Master nods, at the same time as the Doctor breaks into giggles and shakes her head.

“The third batch went a bit awry,” she says.

“What she means is that this idiot here,” he pokes her side and she shrieks in glee, “dumped thrice the amount of ginger into the gingerbread cookies, making them intoxicatingly yummy.” He pauses, as if he forgot what he was saying, and chuckles, not going on.

“How does that explain why you’re drunk?” Graham asks with a frown.

“’S not really being drunk. I think. Ginger Ale makes drunk. Gingerbread cookies make… ate?” The Doctor starts giggling again and the Master joins in.

“Oh my God, I think ginger makes them drunk,” Ryan says with wide eyes.

“Ten points to the mechanic!” the Master crows, teasing a bout of laughter from the Doctor. “Oi, I’m the one givin’ points!” she protests with a wide grin.

“But you weren’t, so I did.”

“I was gonna! You were too fast, tho,” she complains.

Her fam is staring at her. “This is so weird,” Ryan mutters. “Never thought I’d see the Doctor drunk. Or the Master so…”

_Domestic._

The word hangs in the air and the Doctor’s eyes widen. Next to her, the Master lets out a noise of protest. “’M not **_domestic_**! I’m very evil and we’re best enemies and this is all part of… of my big bad plan. Getting The- the Doctor drunk and… doing something evil.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “If anything, this is **my** plan. My grand good plan. Getting you drunk and… and doing something. I don’t know what. Something good.”

Graham sighs. “Alright, you two. I think you’ve had enough of that stuff. How about you take a shower and have a lie-down?” He steps forward and reaches for the bowl. With a yelp, the Doctor pulls it close to her chest.

“Oi, that’s mine! No takey.”

The Master scoops up a big batch of dough from the bowl in her arms and sticks it in his mouth, all the while keeping perfect eye contact with Graham. “You heard her. No takey.”

“Oh, they’re even more sickeningly sweet when they’re drunk off their asses,” Jack says, watching them with something like delight on his face. The Doctor scrunches her face up at him and waggles her finger between him and Graham. “Like you two aren’t really adorable all the time, too, Jack. Gimme a break, I wanna be cute, too.”

“You’re always cute,” the Master says. She looks at him. There’s a frown on his face. “It’s really annoying! Every time I try to make some new evil plan, your cuteness just… **distracts** me! That face and those… those big hazel eyes…” He trails off, staring at her, and she looks back and there is such warmth in his eyes that she can’t help but lean in and give him a kiss. He deepens it and she hums against his lips.

Someone takes the bowl of dough from her hands while she’s distracted.

The Doctor breaks away from the kiss and turns her eyes on Yaz, betrayed. “Yaz! Give it back! That’s mine!”

But the woman isn’t budging. Instead, she scoops up a bit with her finger and tastes it.

Immediately, her face pulls into a grimace. “Doctor, no offense, but there is far too much ginger in this. It tastes horrible.”

The two aliens blink up at her. “Well, yeah. That’s the bad batch,” the Master explains. “The one she dumped the ginger in. We couldn’t use that for actual cookies. You humans can’t appreciate ginger as much as the two of us can, and we **did** bake these for you.”

Stunned silence. The Doctor is smiling wide while the fam is staring at the Master in utter bafflement. “You… Is he **serious** , Doctor?” Jack asks, looking back and forth between them. “You two baked cookies for us? **He** baked cookies for **us**?” He glances at the cookie boxes with trepidation.

“Oi, stop that. They’re good. We both snacked on the dough. I don’t even have anything bad for humans in the kitchen, in the whole TARDIS, probably, and I would’ve noticed if he tried to add anything. Which he wouldn’t. Because he's…” She cuts herself off before she can call him _‘nice’_. He still narrows his eyes at her.

“… trying?” she offers with a quirked smile.

The Master sighs. “I’ll take it.”

Jack chuckles. “Seriously, you guys are **adorable** when you’re drunk.” He skips over to the finished Christmas cookies, picks up one that’s shaped like an alien head and bites into it. His eyes widen. “Oh wow, these are **delicious**!”

The Doctor gives him a smug smile. “Told ya! Bet you regret not having me help you with your baking now.” To add how pleased she is, she sticks her tongue out at them. Next to her, the Master chuckles.

“Yes, we do, cockle,” Graham says with a kind smile. “Now, how about the two of you get some rest, yes? You must have been in here for hours!”

They exchange a glance. How long **have** they been baking for?

Hours might be a good estimation. She’s far too drunk to accurately tell Time right now. And from the looks of it, so is he.

Slowly, the Doctor looks at her fam, then at the Master, and then at the counter. “We’ll have to clean up, tho. There’s flour everywhere. And dough.” She scratches a bit off and eats it before anyone can stop her. Why would they stop her, anyway? It’s just dough.

Yummy dough. Ginger-infused dough.

“Don’t you worry about that, Doctor,” Yaz assures her. “We’ll take care of it.”

Oh, nice, she doesn’t have to clean up!

“Alright.” She pretends to be hesitant while on the inside, she’s very much giggling. Hang on, she’s giggling out loud. Aw, stupid ginger…

Together, the Doctor and the Master get off their seats. She stumbles but his hand on her arm keeps her up. He trips and she pulls him against her chest to steady him. Jack reaches out for both of them and pulls them up when they wobble and giggle and almost tumble to the ground.

“Okay, you clearly can’t walk on your own,” he mutters. The Doctor scrunches up her face. “What’cha mean, Jack? We can totally walk.” To demonstrate, she takes a big step and falls flat on her face. The Master starts laughing from above her and she turns on her back, glaring up.

“Not funny.”

“Incredibly funny,” he says, holding out a hand for her. Still glaring, she takes it, lets him pull her up and drape his arm around her shoulder. Jack rolls his eyes at them and steps back. “So you’re determined to do this on your own, then?”

Simultaneously, the two of them nod. “Yep,” the Doctor declares with feeling while the Master is already pulling her after him out of the kitchen. “You guys clean up, yeah? And don’t eat all the cookies! And don’t throw out the dough! It’s still good!”

They’re out of the room before she can tell them anything more. With a grin, the Master pulls her towards her room. “C’mon, luv, shower and then bed. Your friends are right. And I’m really not looking forward to tomorrow’s hangover.”

Both of them wince. That’s gonna be awful.

With a sigh, the Doctor follows him into her bathroom. They strip out of their sticky clothes. She giggles when she sees the Master’s face. He’s grimacing at the mirror, picking bits of cookie dough out of his hair.

“It looks funny like that, you know? All flour-y and dough,” she points out and reaches up to ruffle through it. The Master flinches back. “You licked those, you’re not touching my hair with your icky fingers, Doctor.”

For a moment, the Doctor considers. Then she skips over and licks his cheek.

When he lets out a long-suffering sigh, she grins. And buries her hands in his hair.

He protests heavily and ducks away. She follows him, grinning and with her hands stretched for his soft hair. It’s so nice! Like silk or something. Very nice to the touch.

They end up in the shower together, hot water running down between them, washing away the flour and sugar and butter and whatever else they managed to get on their skin. The Doctor sighs when the Master's hands card through her hair, washing it out and then gently massaging shampoo into it.

“That feels nice,” she whispers, eyes half-lidded and back resting against his chest. It’s so wonderful, feeling his hearts beat against hers from behind like this.

When he’s done, he pulls her head under the water and says: “Close your eyes.” The Doctor obeys quickly, letting her eyes fall shut and letting him wash out the shampoo again. It feels so nice, his fingers gently scraping over her scalp, the hot water running down her face…

The Master pulls her up and against his chest, lets their hearts rest together. She smiles up at him. “Want me to wash your hair, too? ‘S a very nice feeling, y’know?”

“If you would,” he gives in after a moment of hesitation. “But if you mess anything up…”

She swats him on the shoulder. “What am I s’posed to mess up when washing your hair? It’s not hair dye, it’s just shampoo. Idiot.”

She tries to reach up but… “Can you, like, sit down? Cause you’re taller, and it’s annoying,” the Doctor says with a pout, tugging on his arm. With a sigh, the Master sits down on the ground, the water rushing over his shoulders.

It’s still awkward like this, so the Doctor sinks down behind him to perfectly reach him. Tilting his head back, she lets her fingers slide through his hair and picks out the bits and pieces sticking to it. Lathering the shampoo on his head afterwards feels even better. And, judging by the sigh and his shoulders dropping, the Master likes the feeling, too.

“’S nice, right?” she asks, slowing her ministrations. He hums and leans back against her. The water rushes down on them both as the Doctor washes out the shampoo and then lets her hands drop from his head, wraps her arms around his waist and leans her head on his shoulder from behind. This is very nice.

“Thank you for helping me today. You didn’t have to. You could’ve left.”

“As if I’d leave you on your own to get drunk on ginger, luv.” He tilts his head until he can press his lips against her cheek. She leans into it. So, so nice.

“Think we should move at some point,” she mutters, her chin resting on his shoulder. He makes a noise of agreement.

Neither of them moves. It’s too nice, the Doctor thinks. Far too nice to move.

But eventually, the Master sighs and says: “Alright, luv, come on. We can’t stay in here forever.” She wants to stay here forever, wants to stay with him forever _(wants him to stay forever)_.

“Okay.”

He pulls her up, steadies her when she stumbles, and quickly they wash the rest of the shampoo clinging on their bodies off. She steps out first and wraps herself in a fluffy towel. When the Master follows, she hands over her only purple towel. It’s not technically hers. It’s his. She got it for him. For when he stays over _(for when he stays forever)_.

Wrapped up like this, the Doctor suddenly feels weird. “I’ll go and get some pajamas,” she mumbles and quickly leaves the bathroom. Toweling herself off is done quickly, even if her hands are a bit shaky and her legs are wobbly. The shower sobered her a little, but she **did** eat a lot of ginger.

She finds her fluffy blue pajamas and quickly changes into them. They’re so fluffy! She loves them. She loves fluffy things. The Master is fluffy this time around. His hair is very fluffy, and his eyes are so soft. No wonder she liked O. No wonder she loves him.

When the Master comes out of the bathroom, his sleeping trousers are on the bed and the Doctor is leaning against the headboard. She giggles when he throws her a grin and drops the towel. There is no point in pretending she’s not looking as he puts on the pajama trousers.

“Enjoying the show, luv?” he asks, wriggling his eyebrows. She chuckles. “Yeah, but I’m too drunk to appreciate it right now. Tomorrow, yeah?”

The Master chuckles and comes over to slide into bed next to her. “I’ll hold you to that, luv. And now come here.”

The Doctor readily snuggles into his arms and drops her head against his bare chest. Listens to the beats of his hearts. Feels herself relax.

“I love you, Koschei,” she whispers into his chest.

He stiffens but she doesn’t mind.

“You don’t have to-” she starts, but he interrupts her already.

“I love you, too, Theta,” he whispers back, voice trembling.

A smile spreads on her lips and she lets him pull her down so they’re lying side by side, entangled in each other. He reaches over to grab the blanket and drapes it over the two of them.

“Let’s get some rest now, okay, luv?”

“Okay.”

And they fall asleep like that, in each other’s arms.

And no matter how awful the Doctor will feel tomorrow, she knows that the Master will be by her side.

** The End **

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, I really loved writing these two idiots drunk.  
> I kept going back and forth between adding smut and not adding smut, and also cutting the shower scene, but in the end opted to keep the shower scene but make it not smut.
> 
> So I might write something for the 8th, but I make no promises. I don't really have a good plot for it yet.  
> If I don't upload something for the 8th, the next story is most likely gonna come on the 12th. The prompt for that is too awesome not to write something for.
> 
> Oh! Happy second Advent and happy Nikolaus, by the way. Is that a thing for other countries? I don't know. It's a thing in Germany...  
> In any case, have a nice day everyone! Stay safe and read books and be happy!


End file.
